Joining the Club
by SweetMagnolia
Summary: The Dirty Mistresses Club has a new member. May contain spoilers for 3.18


_Here's a little one-shot that came to my mind when I watched the previews for the upcoming episode (3.18) and it pretty much deals with the after effects of what may happen. So, if you are spoiler free, I guess you may not want to read this until after Thursday. _

_I hope you enjoy this. It's a little dark, but … the creative juices were flowing. _

_ABC and Shonda own Grey's._

_Joining the Club_

He walked into the empty bar, tired and worn out, and annoyed. Just where did she get off!? They had made a deal and he had stuck to the rules and followed them diligently.

She would flounce by in short skirts wearing those impossibly high heels, and she wore that perfume that he loved, the one he swore had tons of pheromones in it. He'd sweated it out and remembered that his sacrifice would be worth it in the end. So he'd suffered through it. And he had also had many countless showers, long … cold … showers.

He'd remained faithful and true . . . like a damned dog, waiting with his tail wagging for a rub on his belly from his master.

Instead she'd ignored him and paid all oh her attention to that intern, that puppy. And she probably did rub his belly and . . . other things.

He was pissed. Livid.

He sat down at the bar and yelled out for a double scotch, single malt, and brooded in silence. Rubbing his hands over his face and through his hair, the sight of blonde hair caught his eye.

He glowered at her as he took a sip of his much needed drink. Standing up, he made his way over to the end of the bar.

"What's got you here at this lovely establishment at 2:00 in the afternoon, Dr. Stevens?" He sat down next to her and finished his scotch in one gulp.

"I'm miserable."

"You and me both, kid."

"No, I mean it. I'm really, really miserable." She turned to look at him for the first time and he could see she clearly looked how she felt.

"You look it, no offense."

"None taken."

"So . . . what'd you do to make yourself this miserable?" He motioned to the bartender for a refill of his drink.

"I slept with my best friend. Who's married."

He turned to her in surprise, clearly not expecting that. "You slept with. . ."

"Yeah." Suddenly she started to bang her head against the counter. "I slept with my best friend. Who's married. HE'S MARRIED!" Suddenly she sprung up and looked at him. "How could I do that?"

He opened his mouth to reply, but she started talking again.

"I mean, I don't do that. It's not my style. Yet I did. I mean, yes, I'd been drinking but… I've been drunk before, and I've never made the moves on my best friend before." She turned to look at him, her eyes huge and frantic. "Have I mentioned that he's married?"

"Once or twice." Mark was now wishing he'd gone to another bar to get drunk.

"How could I do this? How could I do this to him . . . to me? It's just that we were drinking, and having fun, and laughing, and it was almost like things were back to normal, and I realized just how much I'd missed him." She grabbed her beer and took a large swallow from it, and seemed to Mark, much to his discomfort and dismay, that she was determined to continue on with her sob story.

"And then he looked at me . . . and I looked at him, and I . . . just grabbed him and kissed him. And everything just went away. All of our problems were just gone. It was just me and him . . . and it felt so right."

He watched as her fingers fiddled with the label of her beer as she began to tear it off. Slowly at first, but then she began pulling the wet sticker off vigorously.

"But it wasn't so right when we woke up and he realized just exactly what happened. And it wasn't so great when I realized that I lost my best friend." Her hand swatted at the tear that rolled down her cheek.

He cleared his throat and turned to her. "It makes you feel inordinately cheap and like your heart had just been twisted. And then you feel empty," he said softly as his eyes met hers.

"Yes." She chocked back a sob. "I have never felt this filthy in my life."

Mark took his eyes away from her, remembering his own pain as the sharp liquor made it's way down his throat, leaving a path of fire behind.

He ordered another scotch for himself and one for the sobbing woman beside him. "Welcome to the Dirty Mistresses Club, Dr. Stevens."

"It sucks being in this club," she said as she took her drink and finished it in one swallow.

Mark cocked his eyebrow and grabbed his drink, holding it for a second before taking a sip. "Cheers to that."


End file.
